**DIRTY DANCING – PART 1**
Finals and studying were killing her, driving her crazy as the semester wound down. It was all she could do to stay focused anymore. The grind of it all was just smothering her. It’s why she was here tonight. To let loose a little bit, to recharge and refresh and then start back up the next day. Sammie didn’t feel like it was too much to ask for.
Normally she went out to the bars to dance with her friends, a group of wing-man supporting, sabotaging, and protecting each other from too much excess. Sammie wanted the excess tonight however, but within reason. She was in a relationship after all and saw a future in it. But a bit of a buzz, a bit of a grope, and maybe even some kisses wouldn’t hurt anything.
With that thought in mind, she had dressed in a nice red dress and black heels, tall, and no bra. She did wear a thin black thong that barely could keep a breeze away, much less a wandering finger. She called for her Uber and shortly before 11 she arrived at a decent bar. She’d been there before and they were always busy. Keeping it simple with occasional vodka shots, plus whatever beer random guys sent her way in a desperate bid for her attention, she got drunker far faster than she expected. She’d been drunk before, sloppily even, so that was nothing new.
She let the guy she was dancing with currently grope her ass firmly and nuzzle her neck with kisses before pulling away and blowing a kiss to him. The night had been that way, tease after tease, a cupped breast, a caressed neck, and handful of her ass. Nothing more however, nothing that would cross a line. She almost smiled at their frustration. It wasn’t exactly a game to her, but it almost was. So close, loving the attention and even the power. But it was getting late and she did have to study tomorrow.
She headed back to the restrooms, but apparently she had not been the only woman with that idea. The line was wrapped out and even wandered past the mens room. She even saw a couple women just go in there together, braving the stares of the men, daring them to stop them. No one did though, this as a pretty good crowd, truth be told.
She didn’t feel up to that however, and since she only had to pee, she decided to head out to the alley. It wasn’t the first time she’d just pulled a thong to the side and hiked her dress up and it likely wouldn’t be the last. It was quiet out back, likely due to the horrible smell of the sewer system. It was so awful she almost went back in, but this would be so much quicker. She snuck behind a dumpster bin, pulled up the dress and started peeing, her thong safely pulled away.
She was almost done when she was pushed against the rough brick wall, face held against the rough brick.
“Think you can play the tease you slut?” someone said. “Now it’s time to pay the price”
She tried to struggle as her minuscule thong was jerked down and her skirt pulled up. She almost screamed when she felt metal at the base of her neck.
“Don’t even try it. It doesn’t have to get messy,” the stranger said. She nodded against the brick, scratching at her cheek as he pulled down her dress, making her step out of it and kicking it into a dirty stale puddle of water. With the metal in her back, he pressed against her and shoved himself hard into her ashamedly wet cunt. All he did was chuckle, whispering in her ear.
“I knew it.”
Then he started fucking her hard, pressed between him and the wall, brick biting roughly at her face and breasts as he pumped her pussy. It wasn’t too long that he pulled out and shoved her to the ground. Her right cheek had a couple small cuts and her breasts were red and raw from the brickwork. He shoved into her mouth and fucked it, slapping the back of her head occasionally.
Sammie knew she must of looked like trash, naked and being used in that alley and that just made her wetter. She almost hated herself when she started fingering herself despite his best attempts to gag her. When he saw it, he laughed again and drug her to the puddle, shoving herself on her back on top of her now ruined dress. She didn’t even fight as he spread her legs, they both knew what she was tonight. A hole. She shouldn’t have but she accepted it as he got over her and slammed back it, fucking her painfully in the dirty water and asphalt. Occasionally he’d stop to spit on her or slap her, but soon he stiffened and dumped his load in her cunt.
He told her to open her mouth and he spit in it, then shoved the gun in her mouth. It tasted of metal and oil and her heart raced.
“We’re not gonna have problems are we cunt? Tell you what, just tell me your address, and I’ll trust that you won’t cause any issues for me and I won’t have to do something that you’ll regret.”
With that, he pulled the gun out of her mouth and she told him as he walked over to where she had set down her purse, rifling through it. He pulled out her id and looked back at her.
“Correct, it matches,” he said. He then pulled out her credit card, her money and her id. “I’ll bring those back next week, understand?” he said.
She sobbed softly, filthy and used as she nodded yes. He then told her to count to 50 and she did before getting up. He was gone, but she knew it wouldn’t be for long. She looked down and saw the white leaking out of her as she got up and put her dress back on, reeking and wet. She didn’t have any money and she didn’t want anyone knowing what had happened so she asked a couple guys for a ride, but smelling as she did, all but one turned her down. He took her home, and he came in her mouth before they got there, using it as a cum dump in exchange for the hassle.
She walked in and got in the shower, turning it too hot to bear and cried as she washed her filthy self clean. He knew her identity, he said he was coming back. She knew she was fucked. And despite not knowing what that future would bring her, she shoved 3 fingers in her soaked and needy cunt and fucked herself to orgasm. She got out after and looked at the mirror, she looked used and she felt used.
And she thought to herself, “God damn, next week can’t get here fast enough”
**MY DESTRUCTION BEGINS – PART 2**
The waiting was the hardest part. After my rape and assault behind the bar in the alley and the filth, I was in constant fear. I woke up crying, shaking, and soaked in sweat and juices. Every night resulted in guilty masturbations and self loathing. I saw him and his dark figure abusing me when I closed my eyes. He was everywhere, always just out of the corner of my eye, as the days counted down. He said it would be one week, and I was popping my meds like candy to keep my anxiety down. They didn’t help.
Finally the night came and I dressed in just a t-shirt as he had ruined my clothes last time. Twice that night I had to bolt to the toilet to dry heave, the weight of it all crushing down on my chest, every creak of the house sending excitement and terror through me. But, slowly, hour by hour, the night dragged on and at some point, I passed out from exhaustion, both physical and mental. I woke the next morning, confused and strangely feeling rejected. How crazy is that? Rejected by your robber and rapist and feeling bad for it.
Later, when I came home from shopping, I found that perhaps I hadn’t been so much rejected as spared. In the mailbox, left sometime after I had checked the mail from the day before, an envelope had been left to me. It contained my cards and ID. The cards had been cancelled quickly, so they were useless to me anyway, but the ID was nice to have back. The card had only been used once the night I had been raped. A small tool store, but I heard nothing back from the bank regarding it.
So soon, with the end of the school year approaching I went back to focusing on my classes and finals. Nothing existed but them most days. Yes, the odd sound or movement out of the corner of my eye would make me shudder, but each day, things receded to the past. Fear went the way of daily monotony and grind, as finals passed and the school year ended. I would need to work for the summer and had a job lined up, and it would be nice to have a break from everything.
About a month later, I came home, tossed my purse down by the chair and slowly stripped, heading to the shower. I had barely been in it for a minute, enjoying the heat washing down my body when the curtain was ripped open. I stared dumbfounded at my rapist as he sneered at me and I barely reacted as he grabbed my wet hair and jerked me out of the shower. I slipped and hit the toilet hard, my hair almost ripping out as he jerked me forward on the cold hard tile, dropping me to the floor. I whimpered, already sobbing pathetically.
“Surprise you stupid bitch. How was the waiting? Were you terrified? Were you wet?” he asked as he spun me around and shoved three fingers deep into my soaked cunt. “Wet, you’re fucking pathetic, you know that?”
I could only sob and nod my head, my body aching from the fall as he hooked his fingers inside me. I was exposed in my own bathroom, by a man who had likely been watching me for a month. Waiting patiently for me to let my guard down and assume it was all over. Now I feared it may never be over. I then screamed a muffled scream as he shoved his thumb in my ass and he dug his fingers and their nails into my soft walls and shoved me over to the toilet. He shoved my head in and his fingers left my cunt and instead were shoved brutally back in my ass, 3 of them at least as I screamed and choked on cold toilet water, bubbles escaping around my mouth. Just twisting and torturing my ass as I swallowed toilet water in a desperate bid to breathe. Finally he jerked me out of the toilet, throwing me hard against the tile as I slid and hit the wall hard, holding my head and retching up the water.
“I bought you a present by the way,” he calmly said as I cried and coughed. “Well, more like you bought it, since I used your money. Call it a parting gift.”
I screamed as he showed me my gift, a short length of smooth black rope. I tried to back away but he punched me in the gut and air exploded out of my mouth. He took that opportunity to flip me over as I was doubled up and wrap it around my neck. I felt him part my legs from behind and easily thrust up in me as he pulled the cord tight, strangling me.
“MMMmmm, what a delicious sick fucking cunt you are. You’re a failure at being a human being, you sick fuck. You’re only a success at being a warm hole and then for how long?” he asked, as he pulled even tighter on the cord.
My eyes bulged and I tried to move but he pulled me back on his cock using the cord. I swear I felt something pop in my throat as the cord pulled tighter and tighter, digging and tearing at my throat. No air, no blood was coming to me as his cock battered me, slamming in with all his strength. I was fading fast, black closing in on all sides. I felt only pain and fear and then, my cunt spasms, gushing and even as I’m being choked to death, I cum. I fucking cum hard and I think, “Please god, don’t let me die like……”
………………………………………………………………………
……………………………………………………………………
I woke up an hour later or so, naked and freezing on the floor of the bathroom. My nose hurt and when I pushed up I felt the dried blood on it where my face must have hit the floor when I passed out or when he pushed out of me. It didn’t feel broke though. My throat, however, did. Every breath was a ragged wheeze and my neck felt swollen. I struggled to get up and saw the puddle under me, his cum. I never even checked myself for STD’s last time. I didn’t want to know. I flicked on the light and cried as I looked in the mirror. I had been written all over, in what appeared to be permanent marker.
My forehead said empty. My mouth said whore with my lips forming the O. My arms had cumwhore written on both, Ankles said slut and bitch. My thighs said “Cum and piss go here” with arrows splitting towards my cunt and ass.
My breasts had fun bags wrote on them, and glancing down at my pussy I saw written “Her entire worth” written over it. Something was written on my back, but it was my belly that scared me the most. He had taken his time to leave me a note.
“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. That might be a lie. But not quickly. I can’t wait to destroy you. I’ll see you in a week, Sammie.”
I was shaking, as I walked out of the bathroom, my house had been trashed, my mail all gone through. He had marked me, I couldn’t go to my job like this; would it even come off without scrubbing my skin? Every room had been gone through. He had used me and discarded me once again and he had promised to destroy me. I didn’t know what that meant. I could barely talk and there was no way to hide the bruise that ran around my neck. What would I do? I sat down and cried, cried hard. Then I parted my legs and fingered myself, hating everything about me, I tasted his dried cum on my fingers and I gushed in my chair, wondering what worse he could do to me…
**BROKEN IN – PART 3**
The following week came and went, just like the first time. I sat, naked in my bed, trembling and crying, holding my phone, waiting for him. I didn’t know if I’d call the police or part my legs or both. The power he had over me was intoxicating, a vicious drug I couldn’t let go. I had cum as I believed I was being strangled to death. How can that happen and me not be damaged or wrong. There had to be something fucked up inside me, broken or ruined. So I waited, hour by hour, and finally cried myself to sleep, a dark ring around my neck, fading.
Much like last time, however, when I woke, I realized while he hadn’t came and raped me, he had came and visited. No mail this time, which would have been a relief. No. This time I knew he had came because in my fridge was a cup of yellow piss with a note on it. It simply read, “This is the only thing you deserve to drink”. I poured it out and sobbed, because he had been inside my house. Again. I hadn’t even heard him; he’d snuck in, just to taunt me. I knew how dangerous he was. I had lost my new job because of him. I wasn’t about to show up there with a bloodied nose and swollen bruise around my neck, barely able to speak above a whisper.
So I had stayed home, the victim. And now he was violating not just me, but my very own home. It didn’t stop there however. Indeed, it only got far worse. One morning there was cum splattered on my bathroom mirror. A pile of shit on the kitchen floor. Pee in my bedroom trash can. A wad of my panties used as toilet paper. Each day I wake, or come home to a fresh violation that said this place, and by extension me, belonged to him.
Waking up led to panic attacks as I searched my home. Returning from shopping, very much the same. My chest pounding, under the oppressive weight of what was coming next. I nearly collapsed when I found all my birth control pills opened and tossed in the toilet. Two days later it was my Klonopin and Zoloft that was gone. That day I couldn’t even leave the bed. I just shut down, didn’t eat, and literally pissed myself. I couldn’t function, couldn’t breathe, I literally couldn’t BE.
Thankfully that day passed but I barely functioned after that, minimal cleaning, upkeep, nothing mattered. I had given up. It couldn’t get worse. I was wrong, but I didn’t know that yet. I didn’t realize I still had more to lose. I got drunk one night and woke, soaked in piss. Some of it might have been from myself, but I think it was all his. My hair reeked, my t-shirt reeked, he’d defiled me. I barely even cried.
And then, that’s when he moved in.
It was that simple, one day, I’m piss soaked and barely functioning, the next, I’m coming home with beer and frozen dinners and the house is clean. Sparkling even. It had a sharp, and probably needed chemical smell to it, but it looked like a home and not a hovel that a broken cunt was living in. I just dropped everything as I entered, stunned, when I found him there, sipping some coffee. I cried and he came over and stroked my face, not even saying a word. He pulled me to the shower and stripped me. I honestly expected another violent bathroom rape. But there wasn’t one. Instead, he took me in the shower and washed me, my body, and my hair. Despite touching me all over, he never groped or pawed at me. Finally, clean, he pulled me out and helped me into a beautiful gown. I felt beautiful in it, and so confused.
I had no idea what was going on, but he sat me down and cooked a dinner, never speaking, neither of us. I honestly think I was in shock. I felt clean and cared for the first time in three weeks since he’d been fucking with things in my house. I just watched him, my stomach churning at the delicious smells. I felt human again. That was my mistake.
When he finished the meal, he fixed two plates, and poured wine at both settings. I can’t even begin to describe the emotions I had rushing over me, I both wanted to flinch and lean in to him. My eyes were literally watering as he took my hand and stood me up and kissed me deeply on my mouth. It was never, ever, a question of whether I’d give into that kiss. I melted instantly and it was perhaps the longest, deepest, and most intimate kisses of my life. He then stepped behind me, put his hands on my shoulders, and tore my dress in half, dropping it to the floor. I was dumbfounded, as he next hurled me against the wall, sliding down it to the floor. I whimpered and sobbed as he kicked my stomach once, then dragged me over by the table again, shoving me on all fours.
Then my dinner was dropped before me. A dog dish. A dog dish full of dog food. I looked at him and asked him, begged him. He said I would always have a choice, as he pulled out that black cord once again. He smiled then and I cried, cried and leaned over and ate dog food for the first time in my live. He sat next to me, eating the delicious dinner, as I ate dog food. I should have fought, struggled, at least then maybe it would come to an end, even if a violent one. Instead I ate like a stupid bitch. His hand would wander to my nipples or probe my holes, and I just took it. Eventually, taking too much time, we both finished our meals.
“Sammie, my wonderful useless Sammie, I want you to know how much you mean to me that you let me move in,” he said mockingly. “I got us a pet, to celebrate!”
With that, he excitedly left the room. I should have run, I should have done anything. But I knew all my choices were lies. I just leaned forward, head on the floor as I had another panic attack, the pressure smashing and crushing me to the floor. I barely noticed when he returned, with a huge dog, a Mastiff I’d later learn. I just knew the dog looked bigger than me. It was well trained as it just sat when he snapped his fingers, then pulled out of a cabinet a camera and tripod, aiming it at the floor. I started to scream then, realizing just what he intended. I begged, I pleaded, and I freaked out and got dizzy. He just kicked me to the floor a few times and resumed work, until he was ready. Then I was positioned and he made a strange whistle and then, then I think I had a psychotic break as I was mounted and with his guiding hand, impaled by the massive beast.
I thought I had known shame, I had known abuse, but there is likely some torturous level of hell for people like me, that cum, repeatedly, as they are raped by a huge dog. I had never felt anything like it in my life. It wasn’t that the dog was bigger, though he was. It was the pace, the intensity that he fucked me with. It was like being fucked on fast forward, as the dogs paws clawed and scratched my back, shaking me as he rutted in me like I was a common bitch. I didn’t know then that people could have sex with animals or how it would feel. Tears exploded from my face as I was violently dog raped, with my tormentor filming it all. I lost control during my first orgasm and I remember nothing after, until the knot. I’ve seen the video since, that broken bitch on the screen cumming. God I hated her so much.
But I went away as I was owned by a simple beast, a beast that was better than me, worth more than me, and when I felt the knot, I didn’t know what it was but gods, it hurt. He started laughing when that brought me back, my desperate attempts to pull myself off of dog cock. The dog had pulled in the opposite direction but we were still locked as he came up and raped my throat, gagging me, coughing up dog food and swallowing it again in a desperate bid to breathe. He didn’t care, and honestly, if I had been able to think, I wouldn’t have either. I was just on automatic until that cum spurted down my throat, filling my gut. I slumped to the floor, only my hips pulled up, until several minutes later the knot pulled free. He took shots and I just laid there, a dog fucker. I had cum, I knew that much, and I knew that was wrong. I was a dog fucker.
He pulled my head up in my lap, stroked my hair, kissed my cheek, then opened my mouth and spit in it, as he fingered my gaped cum filled cunt, and smeared the dog cum all over my lips. He then leaned over me, whispering in my ear.
“I told you before, you always have a choice. I can post that video to 4chan, motherless, and tumblr. No info, but popular sites. Maybe no one will ever recognize you. Maybe they’ll recognize you the next time you step out. But I’ll make sure the internet knows that you’re a bitch that’s been bred by a dog. Maybe even the cops will find out. How would you like that? Being arrested for bestiality? How would you like that?”
I sobbed, as he spit in my eye, still softly stroking my cheek.
“You’re other choice is on the table there. It’s much simpler. You hold up the card, you read the words, and I put it out, not on the open internet, but the dark web. On message boards that no decent person will ever look at. It’s not hard, you just say your name, and your address, and ask them to come, whenever they want, to do whatever they want. And they will. Maybe I’ll keep things sane and under control. Maybe I’ll encourage their worst instincts. Who knows? So, Sammie the dog fucker, what do you choose?” he asked.
In the end, it was no choice at all. I sat up on the floor, naked, cold, spit and cum and sweat on my face.
“My name is Sammie, and I live at……”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/9uhgwk/dirty_dancing_and_onward_mf_rough_rape_long_choke